Within Her Reflection

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Jacey watched as the long white coffin was slowly lowered into the deep hole in the ground, the crowd surrounding her was a sobbing shroud of black clothes and umbrellas underneath the drizzling grey sky above. She fiddled nervously with the delicate pink rose in her hands as she waited patiently in line to drop it into the hole along with her sister’s coffin. She’d never been to a funeral before so she didn’t know how to act. Was she meant to cry or was she supposed to stay quiet and keep her head down? Jacey glanced over at her parents huddled together in each others arms, her mother dabbed at her mascara-run eyes whilst her father looked on with a sad expression set on his face. It was strange to see such a fragile side of her parents. In her eyes they had always seemed so strong and reliable but at that moment, to Jacey, they looked as though the wind might blow them over, they looked so delicate that they may break from the lightest touch. “She was such a good girl; it’s a tragedy that good people always die young.” Jacey looked up slowly at the woman stood beside her. It was her aunt, she couldn’t remember her name but she knew the blonde haired woman didn’t really know what she was talking about. Abigail wasn’t a nice person, in fact her sister had been quite a bully when she was alive and Jacey had the emotional scars as a result. Abby had teased her all the way through their childhood but she always got the blame as if Jacey had been the one in the wrong. For instance when Abby hadn’t done her homework Jacey would let her copy hers but it always backfired and she’d get in trouble, or when Abby drew on the walls their parents always blamed Jacey without consulting both girls first. It was always like that, Jacey thought bitterly. Abigail was the good twin whilst she, Jacey, was the bad twin and yet as much as she hated her sister she loved her just as much. Maybe it was a twin thing. Maybe because they were twins she couldn’t not love her sister, after all they had once been a single being inside their mothers’ womb. Jacey squeezed the rose in her hands and dropped it onto the rain soaked coffin. She wouldn’t regret her sister’s death but it was sad that she’d never see her again. They may have hated each other at times but they were still family regardless. “Goodbye Abby.” Jacey whispered as she brushed the long wet strands of her dark hair away from her face, the cold air biting at her pale cheeks. Bowing her head she turned from the grave and resumed her place in the crowd.

Gradually as the weather worsened the crowd of friends and relatives that had gathered for Abigail’s funeral soon dispersed, some returning to their homes and others to the Wake. As for Jacey she’d have preferred to have been left alone but under the guidance of her grandmother she was helping out in the kitchen, unwrapping trays and plates of food for the guests. “Oh Jacey dear,” her grandmother called to her over two oversized aluminium trays. “Can you take these to the buffet table please?” Obediently, Jacey took the trays from her grandmother without saying a word and steadily walked them from the kitchen out into the main hall where many of the guests were situated chatting away and giving their condolences to her parents. No one even dared look her way as she came and went several times carrying the plates and trays of food and Jacey had the nagging suspicion that she knew the reason why. Annoyed by the people around her she stormed off into the girl’s restroom and was determined to make her hair somewhat presentable again after the drenching from the rain. Reaching out a pale slender hand she turned on the hand dryer and ducked her head beneath it allowing the hot air to dry her waterlogged hair. She ruffled it a few times and then when the hand dryer died off she stood back up and faced the set of sinks, her reflection staring back at her hauntingly. She looked exactly like Abigail, they had the same porcelain coloured skin, the same long dark brown hair and dark amber eyes that glowed almost golden in the light. Jacey reached for a small black comb in the front pocket of her black pinafore style dress and started to brush through the tangled strands of her hair. She hated that people couldn’t tell them apart, she hated it that people considered them a pair instead of two single individuals that just happen to come from the same fertilised egg. Jacey grit her teeth together as she brushed out a knot. Being a twin wasn’t as fun as many people would think. All she wanted was to be acknowledged as her own person but that wasn’t possible now, not when all people saw was Abigail when they looked at her. That’s right, why did people have to see Abigail in her, why couldn’t they see herself in Abigail? Was it because Abby had been the eldest? Or was it because Abby had been the favourite? Jacey brushed her fringe neatly before sliding the comb back into her pocket. She studied herself in the mirror again. She had on a black pinafore dress and a white long sleeved blouse. Yeah her mother had certainly wanted to see Abigail in her even if it was for the last time; Jacey’s mother knew that she didn’t enjoy wearing dresses, even for such an occasion. Abigail had been the girly one of the twins; she’d been the prettier one, the likable one, where as Jacey was the unfortunate tomboy, the one who didn’t wear dresses, who was plainer, the one who people ignored. Feeling deflated by her own thoughts she kicked at the base of the sinks and turned away from the mirror. So what if everyone liked her sister more than her, she’d had fifteen years to adjust; another day wasn’t going to make any difference. She pulled open the restroom door and walked past the queue of guests piling food onto paper plates and grabbed her coat on the way out the front door of the building. She slipped her arms into her purple coat and pulled the hood over her head. She just wanted to go home and get the damn day over with. No one was talking to her and her parents were so wrapped up in their own distress that they didn’t give a damn what she was up to.